


Bittersweet

by wanpan



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, coffee shop AU, might change the title later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-20 10:52:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6003088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanpan/pseuds/wanpan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whenever Emil works his shifts at the local coffee shop, a strange boy with silver hair appears, and orders a muffin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! I wrote this out quickly so I wouldn't miss the holiday, and so, um... It hasn't been edited it yet. There may be multiple mistakes here! *swears nervously* I-I hope you all had a great holiday today!
> 
> By the way, there's another coffee AU fic by Solo [over here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4401371)! It's really good, you should really go read it. (I didn't realise it existed until just now- sorry to Solo, I don't mean to step on any toes!! D: )
> 
> Oh, also: the rating may change in future chapters, please keep an eye out for that!

The bell above the door tinkles brightly. Footsteps sound out alongside a low murmur of voices. It blends in seamlessly with the soft background music, overlaid with the warm chatter of the café.

"Welcome to 'A Redtail's Dream'!" Emil calls out cheerfully above the noise. He still has his head down, and steadily mops up a spilled drink behind the counter.

Next to him, the low hum and hissing whistle of the coffee machine whizzes to life under his coworker Reynir's practiced (and slightly burnt) hands. The tall redhead stifles a giggle. Emil looks up at the door to see a couple walk out.

"I don't think you need to welcome people who are leaving," Reynir says with a grin.

Emil whips his head back to his task. "Shut up," he mutters, face burning. "Why don't _you_ greet instead?"

"Okay!" Reynir's smile is, as usual, bright and cheerful, and it makes Emil feels simultaneously better and worse. Better, because Reynir's constantly positive mood is more infectious than a rash disease. Worse, because Reynir's constantly positive mood is also irritating as hell.

Emil elects to keep cleaning rather than make further comment.

During rush hour, working at the shop is downright stressful, but now, the afternoon shift, is fairly relaxed. Emil loves the warm and sleepy atmosphere of the place, the clank of machinery, the low hum of chatter. Even though his job isn't very glamorous (he was originally hired to do the dishes, but gradually made his way up to barista), and he has some starts at 6am, it isn't half bad. At the very least, it pays well.

A soiled mop and a few paper towels later, the door's bell rings again. Emil waits for Reynir to call out a greeting, but finds Reynir rushing over to him instead.

"You _have to_ greet the customer," he gasps breathlessly.

Emil raises his eyebrows. "Is it really that difficult for you?"

Reynir shakes his head violently. His braid nearly knocks over the milk. Again. "I can't! It's _hot muffin guy_ ," he whispers urgently, and Emil straightens up immediately.

Said 'hot muffin guy' is already standing in front of the register, cradling some coins in his hand. He always has the same tired, slightly spacey look on his face that Emil finds both endearing and disconcerting. His messy silver hair is a travesty, but somehow it suits him (though Emil has, on occasion, fantasized dragging him next door to the barber shop and fixing it). He looks at the menu silently, slender fingers fiddling around dull coins.

Hot Muffin Guy is a regular, and he always orders the same thing. A heated muffin. He is literally the 'hot muffin' guy. But also, unfortunately for Emil, Sigrun has heard him dreamily sigh over the _hot_ _guy_ who orders muffins, and the name, understood both ways, stuck.

Emil rushes over to the register (he always serves Hot Muffin Guy, it's almost tradition by now) and gives him a bright, frazzled smile.

"Welcome to 'A Redtail's Dream'! Having the muffin again?" He chatters, hands hovering over the button for muffin on the register.

Wordlessly, Hot Muffin Guy nods, and passes over his coins as Emil rings up the order. The coins are, as usual, uncomfortably warm- the kind of warm where you can tell it has been sitting in someone's hot, sweaty palm for a while. Emil doesn't mind it anymore.

"That will be $3.30. Thank you. Exact change, as usual! Saves me a lot of hassle," Emil jokes. Hot Muffin Guy does not say a word- again, normal. Emil takes the muffin and places it in the microwave. "Here's your receipt," he says, ripping the paper out and passing it to the other man. Their hands touch, and despite how routine it's become, Emil is always surprised by how cold Hot Muffin Guy's hands are, despite the uncomfortable warmth his coins carry. Huh. Weird. The microwave beeps, and Emil passes the warm muffin to him, bag crinkling. "Here you are, one chocolate chip muffin, just for you. Thank you very much!"

Hot Muffin Guy nods, and takes his leave.

The second he's wandered out the door, bell tinkling, Emil rests his chin in his hands and sighs contently against the countertop.

"You like him a lot." Reynir is nothing if not excellent at stating the obvious. "Have you found out his name yet?"

"Not yet," Emil says with a frown. He stands up straight again, and fixes his hair. "He's never ordered a drink before, so I've never caught his name."

"Ah." Reynir looks at the door again, as if looking for long enough will reveal Hot Muffin Guy's true name. "Maybe you should go over and encourage him to buy a drink? He'll have to give you his name, then."

Emil sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "No, it's..." He leans back against the wall and gestures vaguely. "He doesn't really do that, he has to have the exact amount of money ready every time. He doesn't like rooting around for change, you know?"

Reynir looks at him with a little smile. "You really notice a lot about him."

Again, stating the obvious. Emil feels his cheeks go red, and crosses his arms over his chest with a huff. "I- I'm just an observant person. It wasn't that hard to figure out."

Reynir grins at him, then turns to the tinkling bell above the door. His smile drops a little. "Emil..."

"I'm not obsessed with him or anything! I see him every other day at the exact same time, he stands out!"

"E-Emil, uh, you need to--"

"I mean, I'll admit he's cute, and yeah, I'd ask him out if it were any other situation, but that doesn't mean--!"

" _HI AGAIN_ , _welcome to 'A Redtail's Dream'_! How can we help you?" Reynir calls out loudly over Emil. Emil's about to snap at him for being rude when he looks over the tall redhead's shoulder, and oh. _Oh_.

It's Hot Muffin Guy.

Oh _no_.

Emil wants to die.

"H-hey again! Is anything the matter?" Emil says hastily, pushing Reynir to the side (the redhead nearly trips over his feet but really, that is the least of Emil's problems). Hot Muffin Guy looks slightly confused, but otherwise, he doesn't seem to have heard Emil's spiel.

He extends one slender finger and points at a little laminated card on the counter. "Wifi," he mutters.

"Wifi...? Oh, right! Um, just a moment," Emil stammers, and digs out a little paper card from a stack behind the counter. About forty other cards scatter to the floor, but he ignores them.

(Next to him, Reynir looks torn between giggling and cringing. His face is quite interesting.)

He hands the card to Hot Muffin Guy, brushing fingers again. Emil points at the card in his hands. "Okay, uh, the username is this one here, and the password's underneath it. Feel free to use it for as long as you want."

Hot Muffin Guy nods, and starts to turn away, but he catches himself suddenly. He looks Emil in the eyes, and blinks. "...Thank you," he says quietly.

Emil grins, flustered. "N-no problem!"

Hot Muffin Guy nods, and wanders off to a small table in the corner.

The two employees watch him silently. Hot Muffin Guy sits down on the old cushy chair, pulls out a laptop from his bag, and settles into his new space.

He munches on the muffin from earlier.

Emil stares.

"Do... do you think he heard me?" He asks quietly.

Reynir peers at the customer. "Nope."

Another pause.

"That's... that's the first time I've heard him talk," Emil whispers. His eyes are wide. "He sounds just like I imagined."

Whispery words, soft consonants. And, also, cute as hell.

"He's _perfect_ ," Emil sighs dreamily, taking a step back with a hand over his heart.

Reynir could not save him from slipping on the cards on the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks (and apologies) to everyone who helped me edit! I should probably get into the habit of doing it myself, but... I'm far too lazy.
> 
> ALSO SUPER MASSIVE THANKS TO LADY_RAMKIN for the nickname "The Muffin Man (eyebrows waggling)" because I was in *stitches*, I laughed so hard at that. Thank you for giving me permission to use it!!

Hot Muffin Guy (or "The Muffin Man", as Sigrun likes to call him, winking exaggeratedly and waggling her eyebrows until Emil's face goes bright red) becomes a regular long-stay patron. He orders his muffin, takes his plate to the same table, and carefully squeezes himself between the table and the wall on the same cushioned chair. Out comes a laptop, sometimes his phone as well, and his place is set, almost like another fixture in the coffee house. He stays anywhere from half an hour to three hours. Then without warning, he packs up, and leaves.

Emil has absolutely no idea what he's doing on that laptop. He sends Reynir out multiple times to scout ("Why don't you just ask him?" "Do it and I'll teach you how to make latte art." "Really?! Okay!!") but the angle of the mystery man's seat has no weak spots. Reynir does an entire full circle around him and cannot see his screen. He has created the ultimate impenetrable privacy bubble. Emil reluctantly teaches Reynir latte art.

Because of the mystery boy's new tendency to spend time at the coffee shop, Emil gets to spend more time observing him. Unfortunately, none of it could be described as substantial information. Emil notices he has uncomfortably perfect posture at almost all times- his back is straight and he doesn't slouch. He leans in just enough so that no one can see his screen. It's sneaky. He's surprisingly short- he probably stands at Emil's height, if not a centimetre taller. But his long, stick-thin legs folded beneath his seat make him look much taller than he is.

It feels like every time he appears, Emil finds out something new. Like how he cracks his knuckles after typing for a while. And that he tucks his hair behind his ears when he's deep in thought. And that his posture is a little less than perfect when he's tired. Coincidentally, his yawns are adorable. Emil keeps this one to himself.

The true revelation- which is to say, the time that Emil actually learns some real info from this guy- is the day when Hot Muffin Guy gets a phone call.

During a short busy period, a loud, generic ringtone calls out. Emil ignores it, instead trying to rapid-fire make drinks, when he hears a bored, "Moi."

Emil looks above the machine and sees him on the phone, looking at his laptop with the most apathetic expression Emil has seen to date. Someone on the other seems to be talking rapidly, and Emil hears the other boy make little noises to show he's listening, even though it's painfully obvious that he's not.

Emil ducks his head down and keeps working quickly. Two flat whites, a decaf, someone who can actually stomach a double shot of espresso, someone who can actually stomach this vanilla-caramel-hazelnut sugar hell--

"Onni!" A voice cuts through the late-noon chatter, and Emil whips his head up, startled. Hot Muffin Guy's face is no longer apathetic, but borderline furious. He's chattering rapidly into his phone, sounding annoyed and frustrated. The tinny squeaking suggests the other person is yelling, too.

Emil is shocked. He hadn't ever thought Hot Muffin Guy could raise his voice, let alone get so furious in such a short time.

Not only that, Emil has absolutely no idea what language this guy's speaking. It sounds like complete gibberish, all skittering syllables and warped vowels, words melding into each other to the point where Emil can't tell where one ends and another begins.

Hell. He needs to find out what language this is.

Reynir calls out another order, and Emil snaps back into work. Right, he's here for his job, not to scavenge for information about the cute boy just a few meters away from him. Focus, Emil, focus.

Hot Muffin Guy's calmed down a bit, and is speaking more sparsely. He still looks aggravated. Emil is still rushing with drinks, and tries not to cringe at the sight of a stupidly complicated order that translated to 'low-fat diabetes in a cup'. He reluctantly pumps in five squirts of flavoured syrup.

"Painu helvettiin– ...mrr. Okay, okay. Hyvästi. Bye." Emil hears the phone being set down, and a long-suffering sigh. He peeks over to see the other boy glaring at the ceiling, stretched out and leaning back on his seat. He looks worn out, as if the phone call had sapped away all of his energy.

Without warning, his eyes flick over and he meets Emil's gaze. Emil immediately looks down, flustered. Hell, he'd caught him staring.

Emil keeps his head down and works swiftly until the busy period had passed. He sighs and stretches, hearing joints pop and click in his back. 

When he looks up again, the other boy is already gone.

* * *

Later that evening, Emil looks up "pine-new hell vet inn" and "hoovasti" up on Google Translate, before giving up and attempting to say them aloud. The dodgy translator throws the words back cheerfully.

Ah.

It's Finnish.

The mystery guy knew Finnish.

Also, to Emil's shock (and delight), he had told the person on the phone to fuck off.

* * *

He is prepared when Hot Muffin Guy appears again.

Emil takes a deep breath when he sees the other boy through the window. The bell above the door cheerfully acknowledges his presence as he slinks into the coffee shop. It takes seconds for him to stand in front of the counter- precious seconds where Emil quickly clears his throat and gulps before he speaks.

"Um... Hyvää päivää!" He says, a little awkwardly, his tongue thick and clumsy around the vowels. He hopes he got it right. He spent an hour looking up how to say it correctly.

Hot Muffin Guy's eyes whip up from the menu to bore into Emil's. He stares.

And stares.

And _stares_.

Emil's hesitant smile drops quickly. That gaze is terrifying. "Uh, did I--?"

Hot Muffin Guy abruptly turns around, and– leaves. He just _leaves_. He quickly strides to the door, squeezes out, and all but sprints away.

Emil is left speechless.


End file.
